


Domesticity

by recurringdreams



Series: Symbiosis [3]
Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: DaddyBatch, F/M, Fluff, Interview, family life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 16:00:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4528293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/recurringdreams/pseuds/recurringdreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“How about we build the biggest Lego tower, kiddo?” I asked softly, watching his eyes shoot up to meet mine with a huge smile brightening his expression. “Then daddy can judge when he’s all done with his interview?” </p><p>*</p><p>Seriously, it's hard to maintain a work-life-balance.<br/>Fluff, plain and simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Domesticity

It was early, and I hated to wake Connor up at a time where he’d be exhausted before half past four, but the clamour of technical crews in the living room were more than enough to give me a headache, let alone wake him from his sleep. He wiggled his feet as he sought purchase against me, climbing heavily out of the high chair we’d sat him in for breakfast, finally settling both on one of my hips and making grabby-hands towards his daddy, who was settled against the breakfast bar, chewing thoughtfully on some toast.

“Daddy!” He squeaked, and Ben turned automatically, his expression shifting from a static, _for-show_ style smile, to a big, elastic grin as he set his toast down and tugged him into his arms.

“Got him?” I murmured, leaning gently into his side.

“Mmhm.” Ben kissed my temple and patted Connor’s back, bouncing him gently on his hip as he pressed a kiss to his temple too. “I’ve got my big man, haven’t I, hmm?”

“Cuddle daddy! Big-big Cuddles!” He grinned gleefully and tucked his head against his shoulder, squishing in happily as they held onto each other, Ben offering him bites of toast as he giggled and played, trying to get as much time with his dad before the people in the other room monopolised his time.

I watched them both quietly, bustling about to make cups of tea for the men in the room next door. Twenty minutes later, one of the young men came through, thanking me for the cup of tea and thrusting his hand out for me to shake it, smiling widely despite the godawful time of day.

“I’m Robbie.” He said with a buoyancy that came only with fresh-out-of-university journalism. “Robbie Kray.”

“Like the gangsters?” I asked, grinning in spite of myself.

“Exactly. Though, I’m not here to beat your husband with a pipe. Put him through the wringer with some questions, perhaps, but…” He trailed off and chuckled again, giving a bit of a shrug as he looked between Benedict and I. “I know you’ve likely read over the email, but I wanted to run through everything so you’re both happy with what’s going to happen today. We’re not going to ask anything invasive, and we’re not going to go into things you’re unhappy with.” Robbie hesitated, and gave a smile to Connor, who tucked further into Ben’s side, gone all shy.

“You guys sent us a list,” Ben chimed, his faux smile returning as he looked at Robbie. “We’ve cleared the things we’re happy with and scrapped the things we’re not.”

“Yeah, we got that,” He smiled. “Hopefully this will draw some readers into our online content a little more – and give you guys a boost for the play. It’s sold well, right-“

“Almost sold out,” I chirped, grinning at Ben, “He’s brilliant.” Ben shook his head, chuckling softly as he touched his hand to my own, letting Connor tug gently on his hair as he tried to get his attention again.

“Big man?” Ben gave him a kiss on the forehead, “What’s wrong?”

“Wanna play!” He huffed, but hugged in closer. “Pleeeease?”

Ben chuckled and looked over to me, giving me a little nod and gesturing to Connor with a little smile. I nodded back at him and slowly moved back to them both, slipping my arms around both of them and pressing a kiss to Connor’s head.

“How about we build the biggest Lego tower, kiddo?” I asked softly, watching his eyes shoot up to meet mine with a huge smile brightening his expression. “Then daddy can judge when he’s all done with his interview?”

“Yeah! Legoooo!” I chuckled, and took his hand, lifting him easily into my arms as he squirmed and excitedly gripped hold of my jumper. I gave a little giggle and pretended he was an aeroplane as we bounced into the dining room and tipped out our toybox, happily sharing out the pieces to play.

**

“Ok, we’re rolling.” The director settled the camera just a little more and he smiled at Ben as he fiddled absently with the collar of his shirt. Sat in our living room, tucked into a warm jumper and holding a freshly brewed mug of tea, Ben smiled peaceably at the interviewer and nodded as he ran his hand over the rim of the cup and wiggled it gently, watching the milk blossom through the swirls of earl grey. It was a habit that I wanted to talk him out of, since it gave his face a dark countenance while he pondered the currents of warm tea, and I was worried that one day he’d get caught pouting by the paparazzi. He lifted his drink to his lips and gave a little nod to Robbie, and I smiled as Connor plunked two big pieces of Lego in my hands. I looked to him and smiled, clicking them together quietly and helping him attach them to the top of his pile.

“It’s almost as big as you are now, little man!” He squealed as I praised his construction. Part of me hoped that he would grow up to be an architect or an engineer, the way that he loved to _create_ was so cute. The rational part of me knew that he was a child and therefore would likely want to be a plane, a spoon or a Lego brick the first time he was asked.

Though my eyes were focussed firmly on our son, making sure that he was having fun and enjoying himself as we sat on the floor, I could still hear Ben through the doorway as they made their way slowly into the interview.

“Excellent!” Robbie looked up at Ben and adjusted his list of questions quietly, stretching out to grab his mug. “So, Ben, thank you so much for agreeing to do this on such short notice, and in such a nice place-“

“Please, don’t thank me for that,” He gestured at me, Connor perched on my lap, smiling more as he bit his lip, “The wife organises the house. I’m not very good at the whole cleaning and decorating thing.” He grinned more and lightly touched the arm of the chair, clearly a little uncomfortable at the way in which he was in the spotlight in his own home.

“Well, then, thank you Kitty,” Robbie glanced over at me and I waved my hand peaceably, shaking my head as I kept one eye on Ben and his interview, and one on Connor playing with his Lego on the floor. “But we are grateful. You’ve decided on only one interview for _Macbeth,_ and the Telegraph is incredibly pleased that we could be that interview.”

“You’re very welcome. You were lucky – my agency wanted me to go with the Mail.” They shared a laugh, then Ben flushed, “You need to cut that out, by the way. I’d be slaughtered in the rest of the press.” He smirked and Robbie grinned too, before beginning to fire off some questions about his new production – _A Modern Macbeth could only have been performed in times like these, and moving it to a space akin to the White House was an infinitely attractive prospect_ \- performing at the Haymarket – _have you been there? That place is goddamned history, I love it –_ through a couple of film projects and his shot at a potential Academy Award in a few months – _I don’t expect anything. I don’t know if I’m even going to get a nomination, though it would be nice! Of course, if we’re asked, Kitty and I will be there –_ the interrogation was endless, and in places a little demeaning. I always felt sorry for Ben having to answer questions like these, because no matter the place or the outlet that the interview was for, his answers couldn’t waver too far, and his expression couldn’t move from a bland-ish grin that told no tales whatsoever.  

When they had requested clearance to get a little more personal, we had been sent an email with a list of questions that Ben and I had run through about our life as a family, about relationships with fans and about having a child and running a real life alongside the magic that was being a celebrity. _Those were Ben’s words, not mine, but I agreed with them anyway._ We had approved the _best of_ and _worst moments_ questions, and a few others, but Ben hated these moments, spilling out the bits of our private lives to the rest of the world, and had a bit of a tendency to keep his answers short and clipped.

“Well,” Robbie smiled as he delved into the list that we had approved. “Just a few more questions, if you don’t mind? They’re more fun than before, and will likely be in a little outtakes clip or down the side in a ‘fact file’ grab, just for reference.”

“So short and sweet, then?”

“If you could!” He grinned, and Ben’s hand tightened a little on the arm of the chair. I could see his patience wearing thin and I was getting worried that he would ask to cut the interview short before they had completely finished.

“Best thing that’s happened this year?”

“Watching that little man turn two,” He gestured at Connor, who had crawled out of my lap and was watching the interview unfold with big eyes from the doorway, “And knowing that I have a family of my own.” He chuckled and rubbed a hand through his hair, “It’s not a dream, you know?”

“I can imagine!” Robbie smiled more and hummed, running a finger down the list, “Worst fan experience?”

“Oh, god, the person that did this knows who they are, but… well, the three of us were out for a pub lunch and somebody upended a glass of red on Kitty.” I flushed pink and looked away as Robbie’s mouth dropped open and I nodded, a little shyly as he turned to me for confirmation. “Yeah. White dress, no jacket. It wasn’t an accident, either, and some choice words were said by the girl that did it.” He set his mug down and frowned darkly, shaking his head. “Some people astound me. How you could deny the opportunity for happiness in some people because you can’t see beyond your own nose.” He wiggled his nose and turned just a little in time to see Connor sprint through the doorway.

I gave a soft yelp, attempting to catch him before he took off and disrupted the interview, but he slipped out of my grip and I ended up flat on my face as he sprinted to his daddy’s side. Ben jolted in surprise as his little man rushed up to him and poked his knee, looking around at the lights and the camera and reached out to him for a cuddle.

“Oh my! Hello son!” He grinned and lifted him into his lap, hiding his face into his chest as he snuggled into his lap and gripped his shirt, and I slowly lifted myself from the carpet, leaning against the back of the sofa to watch them interact. “You slipped away from mama, didn’t you, cheeky boy?”

“Nuh-uh!” He giggled, muffled from the thickness of Ben’s t-shirt, but he didn’t make a move to look up at him.

“Cheeky little thing.” Kissing his head again, Ben brushed his fingers over Connor’s hair and fussed over him as Robbie made a joke about our son stealing the show.

**

They wrapped up the interview surprisingly quickly, but not before promising to edit out Connor’s stage-invasion and send us that video exclusively. As we helped tidy up the living room, and put all the things back into their original positions, Ben stopped and stared at Connor settled on the sofa, still happily playing with his Lego tower. It was almost as tall as the sofa now, and he was trying very hard to keep it upright as we moved around him.

“The concentration on his face,” Ben mumbled, his eyes darting between the little frown on Connor’s brow and the way that his tongue was poking out between his lips. I came to stand beside my husband, slipping my arm around his hips and rested my head against his shoulder. “you do that.”

“Me?” I looked up at him and pouted, “You’ve got the forehead frown, though.”

“Oh?” He quirked an eyebrow and I giggled, reaching up to stroke my fingers over the crease in his forehead with the tiniest of smirks. His fingers brushed over my cheek and he leaned down to kiss me, slow and gentle as his tongue brushed over my bottom lip, and I sighed against his gentle ministrations, nipping at his mouth as we held onto one another. “Cheeky missus, too. Can see where he gets his attitude from.” He winked and gently squeezed at my hip, running a finger along the seam of my t-shirt, down my ribs.

I gave a soft sigh as we parted and both settled onto the sofa, bracketing Connor and working together to build what could only be called a Lego Eiffel Tower. Quietly, I watched my boys, humming softly as they played.  _Content,_ that's what I was. Utterly content. 

 


End file.
